


A Plus

by annetta23



Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annetta23/pseuds/annetta23
Summary: “Hi, it’s Timothee! If you’re lucky, I’ll get your message and call you back. A plus!”And Armie redialed, for the eighth time within the past three minutes. He just wanted to hear Timmy’s voice, even if it’s just machine Timmy.





	1. Chapter 1

_“Hi, it’s Timothee! If you’re lucky, I’ll get your message and call you back. A plus *****!”_

And Armie redialed, for the eighth time within the past three minutes. He just wanted to hear Timothee’s voice, even if it’s just machine Timothee.

Why did he have to fall asleep so quick last night? He woke up to four missed calls from Timothee, along with a text message.

 

> _From: Timmy_
> 
> _Hey sexy. Missed u dearly. Call me first thing tomorrow, K? I love you!”_
> 
>  

It had been years since the last time Armie being stupidly in love; when he’d go to bed and graced the mornings with a name embedded to his head. He’d been in love before, yes, but with Timothee, there’s another dimension added: obsession. Authority, almost. For every minute passed without Timmy filling his senses, Armie felt like some of his rights were stolen.

Sounded over the top, yeah. But it’s true.

And it had been years since the last time Armie knew the drill of being in a relationship. It used to be calls every night before bed, first thing in the morning, then some assortment of plans for a weekend date.

But nothing can be fixed and predict, when you’re famous and busy, and your boyfriend was more famous, busier, thousand miles away and on top of the world.

 

> _To: Timmy_
> 
> _Just woke up…Terribly sorry_ _☹ Caught up in something already? Let me know what time you’re gonna be free and I’ll ring you. Jerking off to your nudes will do for now…_
> 
>  

Sent.

Armie reached down. Pissed, and in lust…God, his hand was so fucking big unlike Timmy’s long, feminine fingered palm. Would he be able to cum from this?

Restlessly, Armie worked his phone’s screen, hitting what felt like million buttons and symbols until he got to that one hidden folder. He was not joking; he had taken maybe almost a hundred of Timothee’s nudes.

Some were not even naughty. There were five of Timothee’s slim chest alone. Some were different curves of his smiles, his wild hair falling beautifully over his haggard face. And of course…More graphic ones.

Timothee’s naked back peeking from under the sheet.

His sperm-stained face.

His frontal medium shot in the shower, making love to the camera lens while feeling up his own dripping wet chest and thighs.

And Armie’s favorite…

One when Timothee looked down over his shoulder, eyes so dark, cheeks flushed. His back and ass cheeks glistened with sweat. Taken when he was riding Armie facing the wall, a second right before his release and-

“Holy fuck! _Fuck…_.”

The phone slipped to the ground, and Armie let it be. His weak hand reached out and grabbed the pillow, and instantly Armie felt so mad because it was cold. Timothee wasn’t there to warm the empty space.

_How long is this gonna last?_

And before he forgot, Armie got up, reluctantly. He picked up his poor phone and successfully typed:

 

> _To: Timmy_
> 
> _And I love you too, sweet tea._

 

**_*A plus: "Talk to you later" in French._ **

****

****


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

> _To: Armie_
> 
> _I’m a free man. Call me!_

 

It’s almost eleven PM. Over 12 hours just to hear your loved one…

Timothee laid back to his bed, holding his phone to his chest so he would know when it’s buzzing. He’s used to this; pending plans, business before whatever else. It had cause him sleepless nights, or sore muscles and migraine.

But never an aching heart.

The ringtone had not even started when Timothee picked up.

“Hello,” Timothee couldn’t contain his smile.

_“Hi gorgeous,”_

And just like that, he felt so much better. Not perfect, but it would do for now.

_“I could tell you’re caught up in your head,”_

“Smart accusation.”

_“Fill me in. What’s bothering you?”_

“Hmm…” Where do I start, Timothee thought. “Tomorrow’s audition. Missing you. Wishing I could squeeze a flight to get to you.”

Armie exhaled to the phone. He’s sharing the same pain. As bad as it sounded, Timothee felt glad he’s not suffering alone.

_“Feeling powerless, aren’t we? Here,”_

“Here what?”

_“I’m sending you a virtual hug. Very, crazy tight one,”_

Silly old man. Nevertheless, Timothee squeezed his pillow with all his might. Here’s to the void in his heart, and in his arms.

And somehow he’s feeling even better.

“Aghhh pillow you give good hugs,” Timothee growled to the squishy pillow. “Thank you, silly. I wish you were here.”

_“Really huh?_

“Duh, Armie,”

_“And if I were there…In your tiny apartment…What would you do?”_

Armie’s voice dropped. Timothee could see him, laying somewhere in his house. The vague noise in the background telling him Armie’s bed upstairs was still a mess, so he’s cozying up at the back porch. Maybe in one of his well-worn white tees, or maybe just a boxer.

They’re entering a different zone in their conversation.

“There’s not so many options of useful things to do when you’re here,”

_“Either we fuck like rabbits…”_

“…or talk shits ‘til I fall asleep in your chest.”

_“Oh, I thought it’s either we fuck like rabbits, or turtles,”_

“Armie…”

Timothee rolled in his bed. Butterflies moving inside him, flapping their wings, spreading warmth to his torso and thighs. His heart would never loose Armie, but physically, Timothee had been suffering.

_“Tell me what you’re wearing now,”_

“Ah…T-shirt and boxers,”

_“If I were there, you’d be naked. Loose them all.”_

And ten seconds later, Timothee was butt naked, hands roaming all over. Armie’s voice felt like a thread away to him; so present, and this was how Timothee survived being alone in NYC.

_“I jerked to your nudes today. Twice, Timothee….Fucking twice,”_

“Tell me about it.”

_“That one from the back…You’re down to the base…Fuck, Timmy, I’d kill to be inside you now,”_

“I’d kill, rob, and smuggle freaking drugs to fuck you like some cheap slut now,” Timothee gulped. His fingers met his butthole, probing slowly. Yes, he’d go worthless, and Armie would still worship him.

_“I’m fucking jerking off in open air, Timmy…Imagining your mouth on my cock,”_

“How do you like it? Tell me?”

_“Take it all in. I’d fuck your throat…”_

“Yeah, feed me that cock…I fucking want your cock…Mmhh…”

_“Let me hear you,”_

Timothee rocked back and forth, grinding the mattress, and pushed back hard to his fingers. He never realized until Armie told him one day, that his moan was so slutty yet pubescent-like.

He did sound like a teen slut.

“Fuck me, Armie…Fuck me,”

 _“Fucking hell, Timmy….”_ Armie groaned loudly, his voice thick with lust and frustration. _“Move for me…Cum for me,”_

“Armie….”

_“Work that ass, yeah? I know what you’re doing…Push your fingers deep,”_

“Armie…No, God-”

_“I’m with you...I’m with-Fuck, Timmy…Fuuuuck,”_

Armie’s groan echoing through Timothee’s brain walls, punched him with this massive, invisible sensation. And the next second, he came to his mattress, shot after shot, powerful and endless. Timothee screamed, loosing control over everything.

He came down one minute later, literally as a beautiful mess. Timothee closed his eyes, listening to Armie whispering sweet words to the phone, when Timothee himself couldn’t barely open his mouth.

 _“You go clean up,”_ Armie said firmly. _“Don’t loose sleep. You gotta work tomorrow,”_

“I miss you,”

_“I know. I’ll figure something out, OK? I promise.”_

What did that even mean? But Timothee was too tired to be nosy. He fell asleep right away after he hung up, didn’t even care to clean up and just dozed off.


	3. Chapter 3

Counting the days was useless when you didn't know what you're counting for, when what's waiting at the end was only a blurred hope.

Was he going to meet Armie soon, or later? Oh wait, were there even any talks about future flights and meet up? 

"I miss you. I'll see you soon," Timothee used to say, used to type, used to pray and hope. But the truth was, he never knew. Days gone by and Timothee was not too sure anymore if a long distant relationship was even a possible thing to commit to.

If it even worth all the voids and emptiness.

"Timmy? You're not listening, are you dude?"

Timothee smiled, his way to apologize to his clueless agent. Let all this be a tiny little dark complicated fold in his own mind. 

He'd unfold it, somehow. Maybe it's time to just stop counting.

 

Timothee said goodbye and jumped out of the car. He could bet his agent was talking about sending another potential scripts, some horror flicks and more little projects that might spark their interest. Great; he could use a nap and dived into those money mine later. 

Timothee unlocked his little apartment, and immediately caught something weird lining up by the floor. A familiar pair of white sneakers, and a red-black backpack.

"Wha-Armie? Armie?" 

By the curtain, Armie stood with a small smile. As if he himself couldn't even believe that he's there, and that this physical meeting was even possible. 

Timothee literally dropped everything and ran across the room, feeling red spreading across his cheeks. Just the sight of Amie's tousled hair and light scruff kicked his heartbeat to another frenzy. They hugged, and teary eyes were unbearable. Home was the crook of Armie's neck, the smell of clean cotton of his shirt, and the wild hair across his arms. Timothee tried to take everything in again, but he couldn't even breath.

Maybe this was how some people died from heart attacks. From feeling too overly wonderful and blessed. How sad would that be? 

"When did you arrive?"

"Does that even matter?"

Armie pulled Timothee and locked him in a possessive embrace. Their lips touched, for the first time since what felt like forever ago, and they couldn't keep it low key and sweet for too long. Timothee arched his back, made room for Armie's hand traveling down his body. Armie started pulling and grabbing, even growling, and the next thing Timothee knew he was laying naked on the kitchen table under Armie's darkened eyes. 

"Here? The room?" Armie asked, bending over. 

"I don't care. God I missed you..."

Timothee moaned, reaching up but Armie slapped his hand away and started to undress, magically without making any rip and tear. Then he dropped to the floor, the view alone made Timothee almost came right there and then. He literally screamed the moment Armie's head disappear from his eyesight, followed by vigorous licks attacking his hole.

 

"You been a good boy, right?" Armie said. "Has anybody else been down here? Huh?"

"No..."

"No one? Just your pretty fingers?"

"Yes,"

"You like my tongue in you? Yeah?"

"Uhuh...Oh my-"

Timothee swinging on his back, focused on that sweet, burning and melting sensation. He gave in for another minutes, letting Armie worship him with his tongue and dirty mouth.

But not for long.

"Armie, come here,"

He pulled Armie up, and they shared another hungry, tangy kiss. It felt beyond sensual and romantic, almost first time-like, when Timothee turned on his side and took Armie's hard-rock cock inside his mouth. It felt like twice bigger than what he remembered.

"Hey, easy, baby," Armie thumbed Timothee's cheek. "Just take it easy...Yeah....Oh, fuck yeah, Tim,"

 

Timothee sucked harder and deeper. Massaging Armie's balls, little brushing over his ass. Armie looked down at him, powerless and on the edge. When the sucking became more slippery, and nasty sounding, Timothee let go. He watched Armie in adoration, moved to the other end of the table looking like a mad god in some mythology. He leaned down, pressing Timothee with his weight, and then they became one.

Heated and wordless. This was a reunion Timothee wanted but could never imagine. He smiled, clutching on to Armie's neck, and traced the older man's face with tiny kisses. Armie tend to look tense during sex, and overtime Timothee learned that was just how Armie was, so he always tried to be the softer half. There's a different vibe today, though. Armie moved with a foreign power, a unique aggression that scared Timothee, just a tiny little bit.

"Am I hurting you?" Armie observed. 

"Impossible. Shut up and fuck me," Timothee licked his thin lip, and Armie moaned over the view. "Come on...Make me cum, I'm so close,"

And Armie moved like a piston, it's miraculous that the table didn't break in two. Two whole room was echoing with dirty sounds and vocabularies, which was a highlight to its short time of existence. As the sun outside making its way to set, Timothee and Armie came down from the euphoria, panting quietly, sharing messy kisses and intense stares at each other's presence. Their fingers locked, and Timothee choked as he whispered to Armie's ear,

"I love you."

And Armie replied with the same sweet line, and Timothee felt stupid for thinking of giving up earlier. Just when he's about to lose hope, Armie came and saved him. For once, Timothee wished time was eternal.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Against the wet bathroom wall, Timothee turned to his side. Strategically holding the damped towel under his pubes, and winked to the camera.

 

And Armie's morning mood changed from great to indescribeable.

 

"Happy with that?"

 

"More than happy," 

 

Armie threw his phone to the bed and walked to Timothee, responding to that inevitable magnet. God, Timothee felt even smaller in his arms. It's apparent he'd been losing some weight, and that's when Armie knew he couldn't wait any longer. 

 

He's not ready, but if he didn't start now, he'd only be chickened out and this trip would be useless.

 

"I've got...Something to tell you."

 

"And that something is..."

 

"Get dress and I'll tell you?"

 

"Ah," Timothee frowned. "Something serious. OK one sec,"

 

And Timothee wrapped himself, hurriedly moved to the closet. Was he sensing it? Was he not? Armie got maybe less than a minute to think things through, to back up and re-plan his hidden agenda. But even before Timothee finished with his boxer, Armie knew, there was no need for re-thinking. 

 

He got on his knees, pulled out the velvet blue box from the back of his jeans and opened it right when Timothee turned around, fully dressed, with a half smile hanging on his face.

 

The band was yellow gold, plain and simple. Timothee's fingers were very delicate and elegant; Armie had made sure the jeweler got the proportional width. Just the thought of that piece going around Timothee's finger made Armie shuddered already.

 

"Timmy," Armie looked up and tried to smile. "I didn't rehearse this, and maybe you deserve a better proposal. But I know, we both know, we don't give a fuck about what's right, and what's common. We are uncommon, but we, what we have, is the purest thing I've ever encountered in my whole life. For every second we have to spend talking by the phone, crying inside, maybe cursing God for the love and pain He allows us to feel, I realized this is how it should end. We should end it with another start, where we should not be apart. Ever again. So-"

 

Armie had to stop for a quick breath. Timothee had started hyperventilating across the room, hands buried deep inside his half-damped hair. Armie couldn't help but smile. He'd kiss all those tears away in a moment, but he had to finish this.

 

"So, Timothee Hal Chalamet, will you marry me?"

 

Timothee covered his mouth and nodded, rushing to Armie and joined him on the floor. They met in a painful embrace, both struggle in silence to keep steady but it was hard. It took a moment for Armie to digest everything, and realized that Timothee had said yes.

 

"You okay?" Armie pulled his fiance to a wet, salty kiss. "Here, come here,"

 

"Oh Armie..."

 

They were both shaking as Armie slipped the ring on. Timothee was a mess, an adorable mess. He stared at the band, nose so red and he started crying again. Armie pulled Timothee for a kiss on his forehead, giving him a few seconds before he pulled the other, much bigger ring from his side pocket.

 

Timothee took it without any instruction, carefully pushed it down Armie's finger. He stared at it for a second, eyes wild with emotions, before he brought Armie's hand to his lips and kissed the shiny metal firmly, lovingly.

 

Armie felt a pinch on his heart upon the view. 

 

"How do you feel?" he asked carefully. Timothee let out a small laugh, and his eyes literally lit, not from tears, as he smiled and said,

 

"Happy. Can we call my mom?"

 

\---

 

**Three Months Later**

 

The train pass did read Crema. It was a no brainer for both Armie and Timothee when they had to decide where their honeymoon getaway should be.

 

"My itinerary, or yours?" Timothee asked, resting his head to Armie's arm. They had a little debate about revisiting old places, or go to a set of strange places instead.

 

Armie kissed Timothee's hair and said he'd go wherever, because Crema was Crema. 

 

The train moved faster until no more noises detected. Before he forgot, Timothee pulled out his phone and recorded a new voicemail message:

 

_"Hi, it's Timothee Chalamet-Hammer. If you're lucky I'll get your message and call you back after my honeymoon trip. A plus!"_

 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on my previous Call Me By Your Name fic, "There's No End To This"


End file.
